


In Which Will Stanton Does Not Liveblog Either Captain America Film

by jamjar, Petra



Category: Dark Is Rising Sequence - Susan Cooper, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Memory Alteration, Parallels, Phone Calls & Telephones, Watching Movies, gen like canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamjar/pseuds/jamjar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will would never go to the cinema to see a film called Captain America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Will Stanton Does Not Liveblog Either Captain America Film

Will would never go to the cinema to see a film called Captain America.  
  
He avoids army films in general, as he always knows when he starts one, that he shouldn't get attached because someone's going to lose someone they love, and the ones where they don't, they're just false.  
  
Superheroes in general hold no appeal whatsoever.  
  
That means he ignores the film entirely until his brother Robin rings him. ”Sometimes you're so bloody solemn, Will. Come and spend an afternoon with the kids. Take some time off.”  
  
Robin’s youngest, Billy, has a particular fixation on the film, and says it’s brilliant and Will has to watch it. His older brothers agree, despite the fact that they must have seen it a dozen times or more. At points, particularly when there are deaths, Will bites his tongue and looks at the children, reminding himself that there’s rain outside, but they’re all safe inside, and his war is fought.  
  
He breathes a sigh of relief at the credits but Billy grabs the remote. "No, don’t get up, the best bit's at the end."  
  
It has been months since Will had to pause time.  
  
Steve alone in Times Square, his whole world gone? Nobody is that British.  
  
Not even Will Stanton.  
  
He avoids superhero films more diligently after that.  
  
Until Billy tells Will, “There’s another Captain America film coming out! And it's Winter Soldier! And that means the whole storyline where Bucky comes back!” which is when his brother grabs the phone.  
  
“No spoilers!” he says, far too late to prevent Billy. “But it’s going to be great. We should go to see it.”  
  
Will is busy the entire time it’s in the cinemas, and in the second-run cinemas. He is extremely good at making excuses. Sometimes he dreams of Steve Rogers, alone and bereft of his entire world in Times Square, and he cannot pick up that story again in his nephews’ company.  
  
They were very enthusiastic, particularly after they saw the film. Will thinks that’s a good sign. Maybe there’s some sort of time-travel involved, or Bucky was in ice in the mountains. In comic books, that sort of thing happens all the time.  
  
When he gets round to watching it, he approves of Sam, who reminds him of Simon. And if the writers are going to give Steve a new friend, then surely—  
  
And then, well. He starts to get a nagging feeling on the boat.  
  
But when Steve chases the mysterious figure— when he catches the shield— Will has to switch it off and go make himself a cup of tea and find a blanket.  
  
And then force himself to keep watching it to see what happens.  
  
Over the next two days, he calls everybody he loves and tells them he loves them, or doesn’t tell them, but just listens to them being themselves. He squeezes the phone tightly when Mary picks up and sounds amazed that he’s calling for no reason at all.  
  
He is not in tears during any point of his conversation with Stephen, who was never used like that in his service, whose memories have only the tiniest moth-eaten holes, for the most necessary reasons.  
  
Will does not say anything of love to Bran, only greetings and gentle ribbing and being sure of one another, as their calls always begin. There is a companionable silence between them, which Bran fills after a moment with, “Seen any good films lately?”  
  
Will laughs, chokes on it. “You know that ridiculous Captain America thing that just came out?”  
  
“Brr,” Bran says, more seriously than it deserves. “Not so ridiculous as that. I haven’t had a film give me dreams so bad in years.”  
  
“My nephews made me watch it,” Will says, not entirely lying.  
  
“And how old are they, now, to be watching something so dark?”  
  
“Old enough,” Will says, thinking of himself at eleven, of Bran at twelve.  
  
Bran snorts. “Hope they’re young enough they’ll see the end of the story, the way Marvel keep spreading it out.”  
  
Will swallows as quietly as he can. “Likely, if Marvel let it end. If you like, we could go to the next one together. Might keep the dreams at bay.”  
  
Bran is quiet for a moment. “Got you too, did it?”  
  
“A bit.” He could never admit how much.  
  
“Ha.” There’s the sound of clicking from Bran’s side, a computer keyboard. “It’s not for years. You looking for a reason to put off visiting that long?”  
  
“Not at all.” They’ve got a weekend scheduled in a few months, a walking trip, same as every year. Will drops out of the teasing, friendly voice he uses with Bran and speaks the way he would at work when he wants to be listened to. “I just thought you might feel better with a chaperone.”  
  
Bran laughs. “You want someone to hide behind in the scary bits, you mean.”  
  
“Never,” Will says firmly.  
  
“I’ll look after you, don’t you fret,” Bran says, his voice far too soft and gentle. And then, like a punch in the arm, he’s back to his usual self. “But I’d best start supper, or I’ll be up all night. Don’t watch too many scary films, now.”  
  
“Make sure you know where your teddy bear is,” Will says, and rings off.


End file.
